


when lizards loose their skin and their hearts

by IggiesIguana



Category: Iggy Pop - Fandom, Jim Morrison - Fandom, The Doors, The Stooges - Fandom
Genre: M/M, the stooges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:15:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27749617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IggiesIguana/pseuds/IggiesIguana
Summary: 1968. Light spilled into the dark alley, and that's when I saw you. The moon reflecting off the metal on your leather jacket. A cigarette between your fingers.
Relationships: David Bowie/Iggy Pop, Jim Morrison/Iggy Pop
Kudos: 3





	when lizards loose their skin and their hearts

**Author's Note:**

> There's pictures of Iggy in 1969 wearing these brown leather pants just like Jim's. Iggy said he had seen The Doors the year before so I couldn't help but write this one.
> 
> PS. sorry for tagging bowie/iggy I didn't think ppl would find it otherwise haha

A young man, lean but built, wavy brown hair to his shoulders and broken teeth, pushed through the sweaty crowd. The mass of drunken party goers spit him out just a foot away from the stage. He gazed up in awe at the creature before him: stagelights casting a halo around his oiled curls, his chest flexing beneath the damp blouse. The man on stage sang with an intensity that he had never felt course through his veins before. The singer ended the song with a deafening thud as he collapsed onto the stage and arched his back, torturing out the last few lines. 

-

He lit his cigarette anxiously, the lighter a flicker in the darkness of the alleyway. He closed his eyes and let the smoke burn his lungs and float through his parted lips. He'd never done something like this, but he's heard all about it. How you can slink around behind bars and in hallways for a chance to be picked up by the band. His heart was in his throat.

A metal door cried open, and yellow light spilled into the alleyway. There was a low buzz of conversation as a group of roadies burdened with musical equipment cussed, grunted, and laughed as they disappeared into the night. The young man kept his head down, his cigarette burning into his thumb. 

The door opened again, his head shot up. He turned so the moonlight reflected just a little off his leather jacket, and shakily took a long drag. The musicians laughed amongst themselves as they stumbled off drunkenly in the direction the roadies had, except for Morrison. He stayed behind lighting a cigarette between his teeth. He took two long drags before flicking it aside. He looked up, and the young man's throat tightened as he strained to not look uncool. 

He slowly sauntered over, running a hand through his sweaty hair. "What's your name kid?" He asked, his voice gruff, It made him shiver. 

"J-Jimmy." He stuttered, flicking his cigarette aside too. Maybe smoking it to the butt wasn't cool.  
The older man laughed cooly.

"Well that won't do, I'm Jimmy! Give me something else to work with kid." He stepped a little closer. Jim sized him up.

"Iggy." he choked, clearing his throat. "Call me Iggy." Jim captured him with his gaze, moving in on Iggy, fingers ghosting the lapel of his jacket. He pressed a rough stubbled kiss on Iggy's jaw, alcohol on his breath as he moved his lips to his ear. "Can you get down Iggy?" he whispered. Iggy's heart was in his throat as he reached up shakily into Jim's curls to pull his lips softly against his own. He broke away and smirked, walking backwards and turning on his heels into the building. He thinks he's supposed to follow.

Jim leads him to a door labeled dressing room. "Go on." Jim says, waving Iggy in. The carpet is plush underfoot, there are Hollywood style mirrors with the big round bulbs lining one wall and a cushy velvet couch in the center of the room. He moves cautiously towards it as Jim closed the door, and sneaks up behind him. The taller man wrapped his strong arms around Iggy's midsection, taking in his clean scent. "I haven't had a pretty boy like you come round to my room in ages." Iggy wiggled around to face him, a smile tugging at his lips. 

"This is my first time." He says nervously. Jim's eyes widen, his embrace loosening. 

"You mean you've never...you're a virgin?" He asks a little exasperation in his voice. Iggy cheeks burn, he shook his head. He so feels giddy in the arms of his idol he can't think straight. 

"Groupie-ing." He says. 

Jim smirks, relived. He pushed Iggy onto the couch, and pulls off his shirt revealing his muscular physique. Iggy thinks he might pass out from the arousal as he grips the cushions. 

"Well in that case, I'll just have to show you an extra good time now won't I?" Jim straddled Iggy's lap and captured his lips in a gentle kiss, letting his hands fall onto the younger man's shoulders. Their kiss deepened as Iggy shrugged out of his jacket, Jim running a strong hand up and down his chest under his shirt. At some point Iggy looses his shirt. Jim's necklaces, cool metal, knock against Iggy's collarbones. His kiss is rougher and older than most Iggy has had. He feels dirtied by Jim and his calloused hands, greasy hair, but he can't help that it makes him melt. Jim slowly started to grind his lower half into the younger man, sucking in a harsh breath.  
"You feel so good baby." He hisses, nibbling at Iggy's neck. He just moaned, eyes closed with his hands useless at his side as Jim rocked his hips on his.  
He stopped, panting and grinning. He leaned into Iggy's ear and whispered "can I fuck you darling?" 

Iggy didn't say anything, his head fell back to rest on the couch. For the first time the older man groped at Iggy's cock, roughly palming him through the denim, making him gasp. "Clothes are no good." He grunts, pausing to wiggle out of those insane brown leather trousers. No underwear, what should Iggy have expected? Next he gets Iggy out of his, and the younger man feels smug as Jim's eyes widen. 

"My aren't you a grower..." He mumbles. "Good thing I'm not taking." He winks at Iggy before planting a kiss on the head of his cock. Iggy tips his head back, melting under Jim's strong hands running up and down his thighs. Jim runs his tongue along the underside of his cock and Iggy moans quietly. Finally he takes him in his mouth, eliciting groans and gasps from the younger man as he sucks hard, swirling his tongue around the length. He thinks he might pass out from the scene of Jim below him, strong shoulders, penetrating eyes. Iggy can't help but buck forward, causing Jim to gag a little. He comes up coughing and laughing. Iggy's face reddened. Jim kissed him with a smile on his lips and Iggy tasted himself on his tongue. 

Jim rose up from his knees, walking over to his discarded pants and rifling through the pockets, he comes up with a pot of vaseline, he holds it up as if to show Iggy, a smirk tugging on his lips. Iggy tried to relax, focusing on how good the plush cushions feel beneath him. Jim returned to the sofa, placing a knee on each side of Iggy, straddling him. He leant down and placed soft kisses on his tanned stomach, running a strong hand up his side. "ready baby?" He asks lowly, locking his eyes with this little stranger. Iggy nods wordlessly as Jim hikes his legs over his broad shoulders. Iggy leans his head back and closes his eyes as Jim's rough hands explored his legs. He gasps as a fingers slips in. Jim chuckles, adding another slippery finger.  
"You're loose." He smirks, twisting inside Iggy. The younger man blushes but his embarrassment was soon broken by the sensation of the third digit being added. He let out the quietest moan, lips parting and head falling back again. Jim rocked softly as he pumped his fingers in and out of Iggy, letting the rhythm distract him from this throbbing erection. 

"Oh..." Iggy groaned, arching his back as Jim hit his sweet spot, fingers curling upwards devilishly. Jim's lips curled into a smile as he suddenly pulled his hand away. Iggy furrowed his brow at him in frustration but was distracted by the sensation of Jim's tip teasing his hole. "Please." He whimpered, gripping the cushions. Jim leaned down and captured his open lips in a mouthy kiss as he thrusted in. They rocked slowly against each other, finding a cadence. Iggy wasn't sure how long he could last with the image of his hero, brow furrowed and muscles flexing as he pumped his cock into him. Loose brown curls fell over his eyes, his breathing became louder. 

Jim rocked into him, letting go of his legs and gripping the cushions either side of Iggy's head, Iggy had to cross his ankles to stay put. "Iggy baby..." He panted, head falling against Iggy's shoulder as he picked up the pace. Jim half collapsed onto him, their chests pressed up against each other as Jim let out quiet little grunts. Iggy was whining with every thrust now, biting his lip hard to keep from moaning. "Come with me baby." Jim took Iggy's neglected cock in his hand, making him let out a sob, breaking in throat under the force of being pounded like this. 

"Oh god...fuck." He was jerking him rough and fast now, Iggy's head fell back, his mouth hanging open. He was panting hard now, moans becoming louder and more desperate and he began to choke out "Jim...please god Jim- fuck uhn." The younger man shuddered as he came all over Jim's hands. Iggy's moans sent Jim over the edge and he emptied himself inside Iggy, loosing all rhythm and sloppily fucking him through their orgasms.  
Finally he slid out and collapsed onto Iggy, grinning and panting. 

"You are the best groupie...I've ever had." He laughed into Iggy's sweaty stomach. Iggy blushed, nervously reaching down to stroke those legendary ringlets. They lay there for a few beautiful silent moments. Jim sighed and finally slid off of Iggy, walking away to dampen some towels. He patted his sweaty face with the cool relief, then he ran a towel over Iggy's slick chest, swooping down to kiss Iggy's neck.  
"So, why Iggy? That's a funny name." Jim asked. 

Iggy smiled sheepishly. "It's short for Iguana, cuz I used to play in a band called The Iguanas." Jim raised his eyebrows.

"A musician huh? Do tell, what do you play." 

"Well...It was the drums but I'm singing now." Iggy gets up sorely, collecting a cigarette and a light from his jeans. Neither of them were the kind to be concerned with nakedness after all. 

"What's the bands name?" Jim nods and takes it when Iggy offers him a camel. The younger man lights their cigs together. 

"It's kind of silly...but The Psychedelic Stooges." Iggy takes a long drag. Jim snaps his head towards him, eyes wide. 

"No way?! I heard you guys play with the MC5 at a fest in Detroit. You must've had a perm er something...I was way in the back." Jim reddened, feeling embarrassed he hadn't recognized the kid. Iggy tucked his hair behind his ear. 

"Well, what did you think?" His breath hitched anxiously. 

Jim grinned. "You guys killed it! I was transfixed with that voice of yours, but those cutoff shorts were atrocious." 

Iggy looked flustered.  
"Hey man I can't afford the rockstar wardrobe..." 

"Oh yeah?" Jim raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you try these on for size?" He handed Iggy his brown leather trousers. Iggy looked at him in bewilderment. 

"You can't be serious! These are your favorite aren't they?" The material was smooth and cool in his hands.

"And you are my favorite groupie aren't you? go ahead." Jim leaned back and watched as Iggy stood and slipped them on. He looked like a real rockstar with bare chest and frazzled hair, the sweet glow of sex like an aura around him. 

"Definitely making you keep those." Jim chuckled lowly. "I probably won't be around much longer anyways." 

Jim strode up to Iggy and put his strong hands on the other man's hips, turning their bodies towards a mirror. Iggy furrowed his brow. "What's that s'posed to mean? you leaving town?" 

Jim rested his chin on Iggy's head, enjoying how they fit together. "No, I'm staying for a few weeks. it's just...I get these dreams sometimes that I die suddenly, and young. It's so often that they're getting to me y'know?" He sighed, breaking away from Iggy and plopping back down on the couch. 

"That's silly." Iggy said, crossing his arms. "You've already lived forever. In the music you make y'know...rockstars don't die." He smiled toothily, innocent. Jim returned the smile tiredly, beckoning Iggy to come sit with him. He stroked his soft hazel brown hair, the boy like a peaceful like a sleeping cat on his lap. 

"Maybe you're right baby." He said softly, his heart feeling heavy in his chest as he gazed down at Iggy. Full of life and fuck and blood on stage, and so soft in his arms. It reminded Jim of a younger version of himself, he hoped Iggy would become something. Even if Jim wouldn't live to see it.


End file.
